


Time is Short

by Letters_from_the_TARDIS



Series: Ouroboros [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who (TV Movie 1996)
Genre: A rewrite set in London, Angst, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Universe Alteration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-16 11:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11827491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letters_from_the_TARDIS/pseuds/Letters_from_the_TARDIS
Summary: When Rose helps a dying man, the last thing she expected was for a potent mystery to spring up around her. Who is the man who won't leave her alone? The man claiming to be the Doctor. And what is happening in the warehouse in the meatpacking district?





	1. Drawing to a Close

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [Letters_from_the_TARDIS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Letters_from_the_TARDIS/pseuds/Letters_from_the_TARDIS) in the [The_Doctor_x_Rose_Collection](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/The_Doctor_x_Rose_Collection) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> Exactly what it says on the box, rewrite the Television Movie to include Rose.

_Life is short, but the years are long, not while the evil days come naught._   
_\- Robert A. Heinlein_

Having put the TARDIS in the vortex, the Doctor settled into his armchair with a cup of tea, and a worn, dog eared copy of _the Time Machine_. He sighed, sipping his tea, and pondered how he felt about the whole sordid mess. A very long time ago, the Master had been the dearest of friends.

The Doctor had never really given up the secret hope that he might once again be such a friend, but his death had put the kibosh on that. It hurt less than expected, though the Doctor suspected that the grief and pain would hit in earnest soon. Right now though, the Doctor just felt tired.

Had the Master felt tired? Was that why he'd all but committed suicide on Skaro? One did not go to the Daleks and expect mercy. Abruptly the comforting white noise of the blues song playing disappeared, replaced by an earsplitting, hellspawn screech.

The Doctor winced, annoyance surging, and replaced the needle of the record player. Slow, mournful music spilled forth once more. Smiling just slightly, the Doctor sat down again, paging through the book. He'd gotten to the point where the time traveller saved one of the Eloi from drowning when the TARDIS screamed, projecting a bolt of white-hot agony down their bond.

Then things began to happen very fast. The TARDIS console let out a shower of sparks, and his teacup flipped up in the air, seemingly of its own accord. Then it shattered, and the Doctor's time senses went wild. Timelines proliferated, seemingly endless.

Jerking himself free of their grasp, the Doctor ran to stabilise the TARDIS. The TARDIS whining pitifully, the Doctor finally managed to get the TARDIS stable. Then he happened to glance up at the readout, and his blood went cold. Instead of displaying the word Gallifrey, and the projected date, it flashed between two screens: one warning of a critical timing malfunction, and the other alerting him of an emergency landing.

Huh. London, 2005. Not much in the way of dimensional technology. The TARDIS keened, bucking again, and suddenly the changes in the bond made sense. Going white as powder, the Doctor bolted for the shrine room as fast as his legs would carry him. Only to freeze in the doorway, terror turning his blood to ice water.

The Gallifreyan stasis casket was shattered, grey slime dripping from the pieces. A slime trail led away from the ruined stasis casket, towards the console room. No doubt whatever was left of the Master was trying to take control of the TARDIS telepathic circuits.

In a matter of seconds, the Doctor had already calculated and laid to rest several courses of action. Only one remained. The TARDIS had landed. He could go out and try to find the necessary supplies to fix the TARDIS. Or he could wait for the Master to kill him. After Ace, goodness knew he deserved it.

Then the TARDIS screamed again, and the Doctor knew that he couldn't leave the old girl in his enemy’s hands. He patted the console, and left so quickly he didn't even bother to look at the readout, or the timelines. That was the last mistake this version of the Doctor would ever make.

The Doctor got two steps out the door before three bullets drilled into his shoulder and above his right heart. He fell against the TARDIS, and a wave of pain knocked him down and out for a few seconds. When the Doctor came to, he could hear soft footsteps. That was when she found him.

Rose Marion Tyler was having a distinctly rotten day. She detested her job at Finches, the local butcher's shop, with all the passion she could muster. Which, admittedly wasn't much tonight. Rose was exhausted, and she missed her job at Henrik's. Even if her job at Finches paid well enough to allow her to get a flat of her own, it just wasn't the same.

Why did Henrik's have to get blown up? A cold wind whipped around her, digging icy fingers into the flimsy fabric of her uniform. Rose hunched her shoulders miserably, and walked faster. Rose started to pass by an alley, and stopped.

A pained noise wafted towards her, Rose froze in her tracks. Fear and indecision wrapped around her in paralysing ribbons. Should she check it out? It could be a trap. Then some unknown altruistic impulse gripped her, and she took a few steps into the alley.

Once she was into the alley, it was surprisingly well lit, both by the light of the moon, and the city lights. Strangely enough, a blue police box stood at the end of the alley. Propped against the bottom of the police box, a man half-sat, half-lay. Blood was already soaking through his tan coat, and dripping in sticky lines to pool around him.

But his colourless grey eyes were clear and sad as he looked at her. He was an older man, with dark, flyaway hair, and looked like his smile could light up a room.

Slowly, Rose walked over to him, and crouched down in front of him, already dialling emergency services. “Hello, yes, I would like to report a gunshot victim?” Rose quickly rattled off the street and cross street as requested, then hung up.

She turned her attention to the injured man in front of her. He was also watching her. Rose had heard that the best way to keep gunshot victims alive was to keep them talking. Otherwise shock would set in. “I'm Rose. What's your name?”

The man tried to smile, and failed miserably. “I'm the Doctor.”

Kind of an odd name, Rose thought. But she didn't say so. Didn't want to upset him. “Got any plans?”

The Doctor laughed, which turned into a wracking cough, blood trickling out of the corner of his mouth. “Perhaps not dying?”

His hand fumbled, caught hers. It was cool, colder than it should be, and Rose wondered with a pang just how much blood he'd lost. A squeal of tires, and headlights flashing, the ambulance pulled into the alley.

Much later, after they'd loaded the Doctor into the ambulance, and promised to call Rose with any news, Rose walked home. She never noticed the string of ooze crawling into the exhaust pipe of the ambulance. Rose never realised just how much her life was about to change. 


	2. The Clock Strikes Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Master's plans begin, and Rose meets a familiar stranger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Eight meet for the first time. Enjoy! :D

_There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval. - George Santayana_

* * *

 

Dimly, through the haze of blood loss, the Doctor could sense the telepathic signature of the Master somewhere in the engine compartment. The Doctor was terrified, and he no longer cared that the humans were unlikely to believe him.

He had to warn them, give them a chance to save themselves. In a burst of terror-fuelled strength, the Doctor sat bolt upright on the gurney, and gripped the arm of the nearest paramedic. “The Master! He's here. You have to do something!”

The paramedic looked faintly panicked, but tried for a soothing voice. “It will be okay, sir. Please try to stay calm.”

As focused as he was on the paramedic, the Doctor didn't notice the needle prick until it was too late, and the powerful sedative was already sweeping through his system like a flash flood. The Doctor tried to say something, tried to tell them that the sedative would kill him, but he couldn't form the words.

Blackness swept over him in a choking wave. Soon after, the Doctor's hearts ceased to beat, and his seventh self was no more. As focused as they were on trying to save their erstwhile patient, neither of them noticed the first paramedic’s jacket filling up with gelatinous ooze.

* * *

 

That night, Rose's dreams were unsettled, permeated by dark alleys and the ringing of a telephone. The ringing went on and on, following her into wakefulness. Rose blinked, dazed. The blazing red numbers of the alarm clock stared balefully back at her. The phone rang again, and a bitter premonition stole over her. Rose picked up the phone, dread forming an icy weight in the pit of her stomach. “Hello. Who is this?”

The voice of the young male paramedic spoke in her ear, sounded less cheerful and more tired and heartsick. “The bearer of bad news I'm afraid, Miss Tyler. I'm afraid your friend didn't make it.”

A great rush of loss welled up in her. Why did she care so much about someone she knew for all of five minutes? Voice thick with emotion, Rose said, “What went wrong?”

The paramedic sighed. “It was something none of us could have foreseen. He had two hearts and four lungs. One of his hearts was grazed by the bullets. He bled out so fast he died enroute. You can come by and pick up his things tomorrow.”

Rose murmured her thanks and hung up. A traitorous tear trickled down her cheek, and Rose wiped it away in slight disbelief. She glanced at the clock, and was comforted to see that it was only eleven o'clock. There was still time to sleep. Rose flopped down, and pulled the covers over her head.

* * *

 

Miranda Russo rolled over, flattening her hands over her ears. She loved her husband dearly, but his snoring was nearly intolerable. Especially when she had to work tomorrow. Dave Russo let out a particularly earthshaking snore, flopping onto her like an intoxicated manta ray. “Daaave.” She whined, pushing him off of her.

He rolled off of her, and started snoring so loudly she was surprised the neighbors didn't hear. Growling in exasperation, she flopped down, and covered her ears again. She didn't see the snakelike slime creature forcing its way down her husband’s throat. Didn't see Dave Russo take his last breath, and open slit-pupiled green eyes. All she heard was the quiet. Miranda Russo smiled and went to sleep.

* * *

 

In body locker fourteen, nothing much was happening. However, since it was a body locker, that was fairly par-for-the-course. At three twenty five AM, that all changed.

Two hearts stuttered into motion, sparked by golden regeneration energy. Four lungs drew in breath. Golden flame flared, changing as it went. At last, the yellow-gold regeneration energy faded, leaving him whole and healthy in its wake.

With one slight problem. The Doctor could only remember his name. Wait… there was a girl. She might remember more about him. Another problem occurred to the Doctor. He didn't know her name, or where to look for her.

He realised that he was on a metal table, and that it was cold, even for him. Whatever that meant. His first order of business was to get out of there. Wrapping the white shroud tighter around him, the Doctor shimmied off the table. A few shoulder slams later, the heavy steel door fell off its hinges and crashed to the ground with an almighty clang.

A terrified man watched him with wild eyes. The Doctor flinched when he crashed to the floor in a dead faint. The flinch was mostly because of the thoughts and emotions bombarding him. Shivering slightly, the Doctor stepped gingerly around the unconscious man. Moving out into the hall, the Doctor wracked his mind, trying to remember. There was something he needed to remember, something vitally important.

The Doctor shook his head, unable to think of it. Picking his way through the basement, the Doctor happened to glance up… into another face. After a long moment, the Doctor realised it was his own face, but it still seemed wrong somehow. He studied himself in the mirror for a moment longer, then turned to continue on. At the end of the hall, he found a row of lockers.

With a shrug, the Doctor pried the first one open. The first thing he unearthed was an odious lunchbox reeking of an over-abundance of onions. Delicately wrinkling his nose, he set it on the floor. Apparently he didn't like onions. Who knew?

Towards the back, he hit paydirt. Hanging on a wire hanger, there was a slightly more intriguing ensemble. Consisting of soft tan trousers, a wing collared shirt, an embroidered silver waistcoat, and a dark green frock coat, it was topped off with a battleship grey cravat. For the first time that he could remember, the Doctor smiled. Ten minutes later, the Doctor was dressed, and headed upstairs.

* * *

 

Peter Denby was not having the time of his life. Not even slightly. He tried not to quail under the enraged glare of the hospital supervisor. “You've cocked it up, big time. How did you let this happen, Pete?”

Peter gulped. “I swear the guy broke out, barmy as it sounds.”

Her glare intensified until Peter Denby was surprised he hadn't spontaneously combusted yet. “Oh really? Pull the other one, why don't you.”

Pete could feel his hysteria threatening to choke him. “How many body snatchers wear the sheet and the J.D toe tag? How many body snatchers break into a locker and steal your Halloween costume?”

The last scaled up into a wail, and Peter snapped his mouth shut. The supervisor looked at him with some measure of apology. “Sorry, Pete. The board is looking for someone to blame, and you're it. Go pack your bags.” Mouth twisting, Peter Denby stormed out.

* * *

 

The Doctor paused in the upstairs lobby. Glancing restlessly at a clock, he froze. The ticking of the clock reverberated through him, getting into his very bones. He could feel the turn of the earth, sense the electromagnetic field of the planet. A hurricane of sensation and information pulsed through the Doctor like a third heartbeat.

It felt _right_ , and calmed the Doctor in a way nothing had since he'd woken up. Suddenly tired, the Doctor figured it was time for a nap. Settling down on a crackly plastic seat far away from the other people, the Doctor closed his eyes, and slept.

* * *

 

When Miranda Russo woke again, it was not to her alarm clock, but to the sound of quiet muttering. Her husband was standing at the window. “Need the Doctor. I shall kill him, and this enmity shall perish.”

A chill ran through her. Her husband didn't talk like that. And since when did he want to kill someone? Miranda crept out of bed, and made for the door in a hurry. A voice like angels singing stopped her in her tracks and stole her free will. "Come here.”

She went with a smile on her face. And the whole time she died, she screamed, trapped inside her own head.

* * *

 

The Master was in a good mood. Everything had fallen into place. There was just one piece missing. The Doctor's companion. On his way past reception, the Master bumped into a pretty blonde girl. Her shields were wide open, and he got a quick succession of memories detailing a boring domestic life, and then the Doctor's face as he bled out in an alley.

Behind that, he could sense an unusually bright spark of intelligence that even he had to admit was wasted on the life she had. She smiled at him, and apologised. As he moved away, the Master realised he caught something else. Her name was Rose.

The Master smiled. He didn't usually have human companions; they were too stupid. But the Master thought that he might make an exception for this human. It would be fun to take her from the Doctor and break her.

* * *

 

Hugging the paper bag protectively, Rose stepped into the lift. The man in the leather jacket and shades had scared her silly. As absorbed as she was, she hardly noticed the man in the frock coat, when he stepped in next to her. He was only a few inches taller than she, and built despite his leanness.

His face was aristocratic, and his hair was longish, reddish, and curly. His blue eyes surveyed her with disarming intensity. “I know you. Your name was a flower.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE comment. It helps me improve the finished product.


	3. The First Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose learns that the Doctor, is not, in fact, crazy. The Master makes his move.

_The difference between genius and stupidity is that genius has its limits._  
_\- Unknown_

* * *

 

Rose slowly raised her eyes to meet the gaze of the oddly familiar stranger. His closeness sent a thrill of a very stupid kind for someone trapped in the lift with a complete stranger. “I know you.” He insisted. “I was bleeding, dying.”

Rose felt a chill run through her. She studied his eyes more closely. If she ignored the colour, they were almost the same. For just an instant, crystal blue merged with colourless grey, and she could almost see the other man peering out of his eyes. Then the lift dinged, effectively breaking the spell. Rose hurried out, flatly refusing to believe the impossible things she'd seen. But the man refused to take no for an answer.

He bounded after her like a surprisingly lithe puppy. Luckily, no one in the lobby seemed to notice them. Rose stopped on the pavement outside Royal Hope Hospital, and started trying to flag down a cabbie. The mystery man stopped next to her, gesturing enthusiastically. “Please! You have to help me. I can't remember who I am.”

Internally, Rose sighed. The pretty ones always had something wrong with them. Either they were sadistic jerks, or they were completely harmless, but barking mad. Except Rose had a sinking suspicion that this man wasn't crazy at all. Not wanting to meet his eyes, and see the earnest pleading there, Rose looked down at their feet, and stifled a gasp. His feet were bare, which she hadn't noticed before, but that wasn't what had startled her. It was the morgue toe tag marked ‘J.D’. John Doe.

Pieces began to fall into place. His clothes, which looked like an upscale Halloween costume, were obviously pilfered. The toe tag. The name, or lack thereof, on the toe tag. After all, if someone called himself the Doctor, what would they put on the tag? Nothing.

The conclusion Rose came to was utterly insane. The sheer lunacy of it was enough to make her even more unwilling to help him. So when a cab came screeching up to the curb, Rose looked at him sternly, and poked a finger in his chest. “You are not coming with me! I can't help you, and I'm sorry.”

She turned away, and got into the cab. Rose paid the cabbie with two tenners… and let out a scream when the man(she couldn't think of him as the Doctor) popped up next to her. She immediately looked away when she realised that the first five buttons of his shirt were undone, and he appeared to be attempting to remove something _embedded in his chest._ “My hearts. There's something in one of my hearts!”

Oh god. Hearts. Plural. With a sucking pop, a bloody scalpel came free from his chest. The gaping hole it left healed within seconds. Now, Rose couldn't stop staring. That's it. That was officially the weirdest thing Rose had seen all week. Or all year. “You said ‘hearts’.”

He bobbed his head with his usual enthusiasm, and slipped the scalpel into his pocket as if it were no big deal. “I did. I have two, you know. All Time Lords do.” He looked briefly confused, as if he didn't know where that knowledge came from.

Rose mulled that over. She'd seen enough weird things to decide that there was a very good chance that this bloke was telling the truth. Rose decided to run with it. “What's your name? I met a Time Lord called the Doctor last night.”

He smiled at her, and her heart involuntarily skipped a beat. “I am the Doctor.”

Rose crossed her arms and tipped her chin up. “Pull the other one why don't you, mate? He was old enough to be both our fathers. How can you explain that?”

The Doctor looked puzzled. “I'll explain it to you as soon as I remember.”

Rose sighed. She had the sudden suspicion that it was going to be another long night. The cab slowed, and the cabbie yelled at them to get a move on. Rose scrambled out, and the Doctor followed. Trotting up the steps of the drab grey building, Rose privately wondered what her life was coming to. It seemed to have flipped over from boring to crazy town in a hurry.

The Doctor watched with mercifully silent curiosity as Rose unlocked the door to her flat. “Home sweet home.” She said with a touch of emotion even she had a hard time identifying. Sadness, perhaps? Or maybe a trace of bitterness? Shaking her head at the impromptu psychoanalysis, Rose stepped into the flat.

* * *

 

The Doctor followed her into the flat, and stared around him with open curiosity. He could remember her name now. It was Rose. He was tempted to say her name out loud, but Rose would probably look at him oddly. With an effort, he brought his attention back to the contents of the flat. It was… odd. The Doctor expected that someone with a personality like Rose's would reach out and touch everything around her. But the flat was bizarrely sterile. A horribly ugly red plaid couch occupied one wall of the tiny living room, but other than that, there wasn't much in the way of furniture.

Then he zeroed in on the two bookshelves in the corner. Worn, well-loved books occupied all but the top shelves. On those shelves, picture frames and knickknacks proliferated. The Doctor wandered over, even as Rose dumped her satchel and the paper bag, and disappeared into her room. In one picture, an older man cradled a baby. The man bore a striking resemblance to Rose. The Doctor assumed he was Rose's father. In the other frame a blonde woman hugged a young girl who might have been a younger Rose. Her mother.

He glanced down at the first shelf of books, and had to smile. Dickens novels. Always a sign of good taste. He said as much to Rose when she emerged wearing jeans and a sunny yellow shirt. She smiled distractedly at him. “Thanks.” Rose looked like she was about to say more, when her mobile split the air with a deafening caterwauling.

Rose winced. “Sorry, but I gotta take this.”

Rose picked up the phone. The Doctor couldn't hear what was said, but he instantly knew something was wrong. Her eyes glazed over, and an angelic smile lit up her face. Waves of raw terror and violation washed over the Doctor, scraping his skin raw. Her fear flipped a switch in his brain, and all of his memories came rushing back. Rose's smile got even wider, even as her horror increased tenfold. “Ta. See you soon.”

She started for the door. Fast as she was, the Doctor was faster. He interposed himself between her and the door, and snatched the mobile phone from her hand. Snapping it shut, the Doctor put as much power into his voice as he could muster. “Rose. Wake up.”

Life came back into her eyes with a snap that was only slightly metaphorical. Tears slid down her face, and her knees shook. The Doctor decided it was in her best interest to sit her down somewhere before she collapsed. He led her over to the couch, and sat her down. Sitting down next to her, the Doctor asked, “What do you remember? Even the smallest detail is vitally important.”

The words tumbled from Rose in a barely decipherable cascade. “It-it was the paramedic from that night, but it wasn't, and then I was trapped inside my own head.” The Doctor’s mind raced. Out loud, he said, “It must be the Master. He knows I'm here, and he knows you're involved with me. Can you remember anyone out of the ordinary?”

Rose shuddered, and wrapped her arms around the Doctor, seeking comfort. “There was a man. Wore a black leather jacket, and dark shades. He stared at me like he wanted to do things to me. I bumped into him, and he looked at me oddly after that.”

The Doctor sighed. This was going to be an interesting conversation. “How do you like your tea? There's some things I need to tell you.”

* * *

 

Jimmy Stone slammed back another shot, and slid the empty glass across the counter. This gig had been a disaster. A man in a black leather jacket slid in next to him. Jimmy started to glare at him, and stopped. The man emitted an aura of danger as palpable as that of a rattlesnake. “I hear you're in need of money.”

The man’s voice was as snakelike and hypnotic as his movement. Jimmy found himself nodding along. “What's the payment?”

The man smiled, and Jimmy half expected to see fangs. “Three million pounds.”

Jimmy tried to remember the reasons why that was a bad idea, but couldn't find any. “All right.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave feedback. It greatly improves the finished product.


	4. Cat and Mouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The game of cat and mouse begins.

_Wit is educated insolence. - Aristotle_

The Doctor poured the tea, and privately thanked the universe that he'd been there to help Rose snap out of it. Otherwise, he knew exactly what would've happened to her. Forced to kill or die with a smile on her face, screaming on the inside but unable to stop herself.

That was the Master’s modus operandi. No matter how strong Rose's will was, it was no match for a Time Lord’s. The Doctor opened up a canister of sugar, and selected two sugars just as Rose requested. He poured the milk, and stared in perplexity at his own mug.

This part of regeneration was always interesting. Experimentally, he took a sip of the still-black tea, and just barely managed not to spit it into the sink. Well. Apparently he didn't take his tea that way. Following an instinct, the Doctor poured a healthy amount of milk, then added four sugars. He stirred the tea, then took a sip. Perfect. Carefully balancing one cup of tea in each hand, the Doctor headed for the living room.

* * *

 

Rose looked up as the Doctor emerged from the kitchen. She was still busy processing the whole crazy situation she'd gotten herself into. But Rose still had to admire the Doctor's lean physique. He was currently carrying two mugs of tea. The Doctor looked at her curiously, and handed over a mug. Rose took a sip, and hummed in pleasure. It was perfect.

The Doctor smiled at her, and sat down beside her with boneless grace. As a former gymnast, Rose had to envy that easy grace. Then she smelled the scent of sugar wafting off of the Doctor's cup of tea, and frowned. “Jus’ how much sugar did you put in that?”

The Doctor grinned happily. “Four sugars.”

Rose aimed an accusatory finger at him. “If you get hyper…”

The Doctor looked mildly offended. “I do not ‘get’ hyper.”

Rose grinned triumphantly at him. “Yes, because you already _are_.”

The Doctor shook his head, lips quirking. “Perhaps this incarnation is a bit energetic.”

Rose was more than a little confused. “What do you mean, incarnation?”

The Doctor tilted his head, clearly thinking. “Time Lords have a way of cheating death. In essence, we have thirteen lives. The first twelve times we die, we become a slightly different person. Different quirks, different appearance. It's called regeneration.”

Rose was surprised how well she was taking this. “What happens the thirteenth time?”

The Doctor smiled sadly. “We die for good. That's what happened to the Master. Only somehow, he managed to cheat death once again. Seemingly by taking the body of someone else.”

Rose felt sick. That poor paramedic. “Can we give the paramedic back his body?”

The Doctor squeezed her hand. “In all likelihood, no. In all the cases of full body possession I've dealt with before, it's irreversible. I'm sorry, Rose.”

Rose sighed. “How do we stop him?”

The Doctor smiled apologetically. “Ah, yes. I'm afraid I'm still working on that.”

Rose drained her tea and set the mug on the cracked end table. “Might as well go for a walk. It'll help both of us think. Come on, I have some shoes that might fit you.”

* * *

 

Rose craned her neck to peer around them. “Where are we going?”

The Doctor smiled. “To my ship.”

Rose looked at him askance. “You have a ship?”

He clapped his hand over his hearts in mock distress. “Of course I have a timeship! What kind of Time Lord would I be if I didn't?”

Rose looked away, smirking. “A slightly less melodramatic one?” She murmured. Then what he'd said caught up with her. “Wait a second. A timeship? An honest to god time machine?”

The Doctor nodded, feeling happy. My, but she was perceptive. “I wouldn't be much of a Time Lord without her. Granted, I am time sensitive, but still.”

Rose stared at him, wide eyed. “You can see the future?”

He nodded, smiling. “Can you see my future?”

The Doctor hesitated. The truth was, he couldn't see her timeline at all. Which could mean one of two things. One, her timeline was intertwined with his. Two, she was a temporal anomaly of some sort. He hoped not. He didn't want to have to go toe to toe with the Time Lords over her. After a long moment, he shook his head. “No. I'm afraid I can't see your timeline at all.”

Rose stopped in her tracks, brows furrowing. “Am I gonna die?”

The Doctor patted her arm reassuringly. “No, I'd see it if you were.”

Rose smiled a little shakily at him, and they started walking again. She was silent until they turned the corner into the alley where he'd been shot. “The thing I don't understand is, even if it was cloaked or somethin’, how would a ship fit in the alley. I didn't see anything but that police bo- oh!”

A look of comprehension dawned on her face as she stared intently at the police box. The Doctor grinned from ear to ear. He gestured with the TARDIS key. “Shall we?” Rose grinned at him, and made a mad dash for the TARDIS.

* * *

 

Jimmy Stone watched the weird guy who insisted on being called the Master working on a complicated looking device that resembled a ship in a bottle. Only there was no ship, just velvety darkness peppered with stars. It was really rather pretty, if Jimmy had cared about such things on anything other than women.

When Jimmy had bothered to ask what it was, the Master had shot him a contemptuous glare, and told him it was a telepathic amplifier, whatever the blazes that was. The Master rested the fingers of one hand on the bottle, and pressed the fingers of the other to his temple.

The starry darkness inside the bottle went indistinct, fading like ink in a strong current. In its place was the image of a girl, blonde haired and pretty, wearing a happy grin. Jimmy just barely managed to suppress a snarl at Rose Tyler's sunny visage. Behind her, the vista of the mad ship spread out in a terrifying array. What was Rose doing aboard a spaceship? Jimmy finally noticed the Master studying his face. “You know the girl?”

Jimmy sneered. “Rose Tyler. The one that got away.”

The Master smiled. It was a blood chilling expression. “Now that I have a name and an image of the Doctor's unwitting accomplice, how about trying for one of the Doctor, hmm?”

The image in the bottle shifted, the smokey Rose Tyler blowing apart as if in a strong wind. An image of a man with curly auburn hair and blue eyes appeared. Then he started silently talking, and abruptly the image cut off, replaced by stars. The Master let out a few curses in a weird chiming language. “Other’s grave! She must've noticed and shut her eyes.”

Jimmy crossed his arms obstinately. “Just who is this Doctor bloke, anyway? You never told me.”

The Master grimaced as if tasting something bitter. “Pure evil. Ever heard of Genghis Khan? That was him. Everywhere he goes in time and space, he leaves a taint. The universe would be better off without him.”

Jimmy Stone was beginning to understand. “So you want me to kill him.”

This startled a laugh out of the Master. “Rassilon no, child! He'd kill you, or worse, subvert you.”

A sly smile spread across the Master’s features. “No, I want you to charm and flatter Rose Tyler into bringing him to me.”

* * *

 

Rose had never realised until now just how boring the inside of her eyelids were. Not to mention the fact that keeping them squeezed shut hurt. “How long until you've got the telepathic jammer rigged?”

The Doctor’s soft voice sounded somewhere in the vicinity of her left ear, and Rose's eyes nearly flew open. “It's done. One moment please… There.”

The Doctor's hands lightly brushed the skin of her neck as he looped the long chain around her neck. She shivered, and it wasn't from discomfort. Rose carefully opened her eyes, and examined the telepathic jammer. It looked like an innocuous piece of circuitry. She glanced up at the Doctor, who had chosen to sprawl with loose limbed grace across from her. “What does it do?”

The Doctor smiled, but his mouth and eyes were tight. “It creates a telepathic dampening field around you. It means that it takes an incredible amount of energy to even access your mind, much less control it. It should mean that the Master is unable to control your mind.”

Rose felt a great deal of affection for the Doctor, but this didn't reassure her. “Should?”

The Doctor sighed. “If it doesn't, then it will at least give you a better than even chance to throw off his control.”

Rose glanced around at the seemingly endless parade of bookshelves. “What next?”

The Doctor bounced to his feet and set off at a brisk pace. “Know your enemy. If we figure out what allows the Master to possess a body, then we'll know how to stop him.”

Rose got up, and trotted after him. The Doctor led her to a bank of futuristic computers. Rose watched in fascination as he typed in a query directly on the screen. Line after line of circles containing clockwork gears flashed by, far too fast for Rose to parse. The Doctor's eyes flicked back and forth, seemingly keeping pace. Eventually the circles stopped, and the Doctor rocked back on his heels. “This is worse than I thought. He must've used a deathworm.”

Rose shivered. The name didn't sound like it boded well. “What is a deathworm, anyway?”

As if a switch had been flipped, the Doctor's eyes brightened. Instantly, he was in enthusiastic lecture mode. “If someone knows they're about to die, and they have enough money and influence, then they can buy a deathworm, and ingest it. When they die, their consciousness will transfer to the worm, and then they can seek out a suitable host, such as a Time Lord or an Eternal.”

A chill stole over Rose. She swallowed. “He was aiming to steal your body instead. He gets rid of an enemy, and he gets a fresh start in life. Easy peasy.”

The Doctor nodded approvingly. “Very good. The question is, why didn't he? Why take over the poor paramedic instead?” 


	5. Time Flies Like an Arrow...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor and Rose get an unexpected visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it's drawing to a close. One, maybe two chapters after this.

Rose headed back the way they'd come, the Doctor following in her wake. “I dunno. Maybe he couldn't possess you for some reason?”

The Doctor smacked his forehead with the flat of his hand. “Yes, of course! He thought I wouldn't regenerate, so he took over the paramedic instead. And here he is, slowly dying, out for blood.”

They exited the infinite library, emerging into the gleaming white halls of the TARDIS. The Doctor rubbed his temples, looking thoughtful. “I wonder what he's planning. Certainly something big. The Master wouldn't want to go out without an encore, a final middle finger salute, so to speak. Killing me wouldn't be enough.”

The Doctor sped up again, and Rose had to trot to keep up. She drew even with him. “Do you have a plan?”

The Doctor grinned, and promptly paused to riffle through his pockets. “Yes, in fact I do. It's in here somewhere.”

He started handing Rose random junk, including an REI sleeping bag, a cell phone probably dating from the Cretaceous period, and a rubber duck. Rose was beginning to stare in disbelief at the growing pile of miscellaneous items in her arms, when the Doctor made a noise of triumph, and pulled out a item resembling a silver cricket ball covered in the circular writing from earlier.

He dangled it under her nose. “It's a stasis field. Activate it anywhere near the Master, and he won't be a threat long enough to take him to Gallifrey to stand trial.”

Rose shifted uncomfortably under the swaying pile of junk. “I'm glad we have a plan, but can I put this stuff down?”

The Doctor looked faintly embarrassed. “Oh. Sorry.”

He placed the stasis field into one of her hands, and starting shoving stuff back into his pockets. Once Rose was free, they resumed walking. With a shock, Rose realised how tired she was. Barely managing to stifle a yawn, Rose noticed the Doctor watching her with a peculiar look on his face. Some unidentifiable emotion flitted through those crystal blue eyes fast enough that Rose almost wondered if she'd imagined it. “Come on, Rose Tyler, let's get you home.”

Rose felt a pang. Home didn't seem nearly so appealing after she'd seen the vastness of it all. The Doctor must've seen her expression, because his expression softened. “I'm not going anywhere. Not until this mess is sorted.”

He held out a hand. “Shall we?” Rose took his hand, noticing as she did that it fit perfectly. Just like his last self. Together, they headed for the console room.

* * *

 

The Doctor paused in his complicated dance around the console to flip the dematerialisation lever. Almost instantly, the hum of the TARDIS scaled up. On the other side of the console, Rose said something too quiet to parse, and the console lit up. Inside his head, the bond glowed yellow with the TARDIS’s quiet happiness.

She liked Rose. _My Thief, we should keep this one. She will do great things_.

The Doctor's mouth dropped open. The TARDIS rarely ever spoke directly to him. Rose looked at him oddly. “What's wrong?”

The Doctor shook his head dazedly. “Nothing's wrong. The TARDIS just spoke to me. She rarely ever does that. She once said she's too busy watching all of time and space.”

Rose tilted her head, a strange look on her face. “What did she say?”

Reluctantly, the Doctor repeated the TARDIS’s words. Rose's face lit up with a sly, happy grin. “Why, I'd love to travel all of time and space with you two. You only had to ask!”

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her for real this time, but the TARDIS chose that moment to arrive at Rose's flat.

* * *

 

Stepping out into her flat, the mundane was suddenly bizarrely surreal. Rose took a long look at the battered second hand furniture, the threadbare carpet, and the water stained ceiling. It no longer seemed to mesh with the reality she'd discovered, that insane place of renegade Time Lords, and talking, sentient timeships.

A place where people died and became someone slightly different. Behind her, she could hear the Doctor's soft footsteps as he exited the TARDIS. She turned to him. “I'm going to get some sleep. Do you need any sleep?”

The Doctor stuck his hands in his pockets, and nodded slightly. “Two or three hours should do it. Don't worry, I can sleep on the couch.”

On an impulse, Rose stepped forward and hugged him. After a second, the Doctor wrapped his arms around her, and buried his face in her hair. Rose breathed in his scent, noting he smelled like tea, time passing, and books. They stayed that way for a few seconds longer, then they both broke apart at the same time. “See you in the morning.” Rose said.

The Doctor saluted ironically, and dropped down on the couch, pulling out a book from his pocket. Rose turned and went into the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, Rose had brushed her teeth and otherwise gotten ready for bed. Dressed in ratty linen pyjamas, Rose slid into bed. Almost the instant her head hit the pillow, she was asleep.

Rose woke the next morning to loud, angry knocking. Suddenly afraid, Rose bolted into the living room as quietly as she could. The Doctor was sound asleep on the couch, the book plastered to his face. Prying the stubborn book from his face, she shook his shoulder frantically, even as the knocking scaled up, accompanied by alarmingly familiar curses. The Doctor's eyes flew open, and he looked at Rose. “You heard knocking. Who is it?”

Rose gulped. This brought back unpleasant memories. You're safe, she reminded herself. “Jimmy Stone.”

The Doctor's voice was thoughtful and a little angry, but that anger wasn't directed at her. “You're afraid of him.”

Rose nodded, slightly relieved to have that conversation over with. The Doctor flowed to his feet, all puppy-like enthusiasm gone. He stalked over to the door, Rose following on his heels, and yanked it open. Jimmy Stone stood there, looking much as Rose remembered him, except for the massive bruise covering most of his face and neck.

He immediately rounded on the Doctor, sneering. “Who're you, then? Her guy of the week? Some guy you are. What is that, a clearance rack reject?”

When the Doctor didn't respond, except to stand there, Jimmy pushed past him and made a grab for a terrified Rose. This was a colossal mistake.

Before Jimmy could touch Rose, the Doctor had his forearm in a grasp that made Jimmy squall like a scared kitten. “I do not abide those who hurt or frighten others for fun or their own twisted sense of gain. Especially those who attempt to hurt or frighten Rose.”

The Doctor's voice was mild, but their was a disturbing undercurrent to it that Rose was very glad wasn't directed at her. Rose stepped forward and placed a hand on the Doctor's arm.

“Doctor.” She said, trying for a little levity. “You can let him go now. Otherwise, you'll be responsible for making that wanker cry. Much as I'd like to see that, we have more important things to do.”

The Doctor obligingly dropped Jimmy’s arm, and Jimmy crumpled to the worn purple carpet. Jimmy stared up at the Doctor, eyes watering. “You're the Doctor?” Jimmy’s face reformed into a lemon sucking grimace. “I need your help.” The rest of his words spilled out in a rush. “I was paid to do a job for the Master. Only it turns out he's got a Time bomb, and is planning to erase the earth from history.”

Rose pulled the Doctor out of earshot. “If I know Jimmy, he's lying about at least part of it. The Master probably sent him. Do you think it's a trap?”

The Doctor grinned, saying her name like a verbal caress. “Oh, it's most certainly a trap, Rose Tyler.”

Rose had to smile at his enthusiasm. “Do we walk into it?”

“For the sake of the earth, yes we do.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this. Please, if you have the time, please leave kudos or a comment.


	6. Lug Wrench and Duct Tape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They walk in a trap. But what else is new?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached the end of this fic, but not the series. Watch out for the sequel, Time's Champion.

For years, Rose had been terrified of Jimmy. To her sixteen-year-old self, he'd seemed like her equivalent of the monster under the bed. Only this monster controlled her finances and just about everything else. And she'd loved him on some level.

But now, seeing Jimmy sulking on her living room floor, she felt nothing but pity for him. As she passed by, Rose reached down and grabbed Jimmy by the collar of his band jacket. Jimmy let out a squawk like a startled chicken, but let himself be hauled to his feet. “You're coming with us.”

Jimmy let out another squawk. “Me?”

Rose was enjoying this comeuppance far too much. And, judging by the smirk on his face, so was the Doctor. “Yes, you, Jimmy Stone. Show a backbone for once in your life. You're about to save the world.” The Doctor clapped him on the back, and led him towards the TARDIS.

The Doctor paused to unlock the TARDIS, and Jimmy simply stared dully at the threadbare carpet. Rose almost let herself feel sorry for him, until she remembered that he'd nearly destroyed the planet with his greed. They got into the TARDIS, and they were off.

* * *

 

The Master paced, awaiting the arrival of the Doctor's TARDIS. The stupid human child had fallen for his goodness and light act, hook, line and sinker. Now only time would tell if the human would betray him or not.

The Master glanced back at the Time bomb, primed and ready to detonate. Yes, time would tell. The blue mist of the materialising TARDIS began to take shape in front of him, and the Master smiled.

* * *

 

“He left you the address? How helpful of him. I'll have to go thank him in person.”

Jimmy went another shade paler, probably because of all the tripe the Master had doubtless been feeding him. “Okay.” Jimmy said in a very small voice, then gulped.

Rose was perched in the Doctor's favourite armchair, watching this debacle with great amusement. Considering what the Doctor strongly suspected Jimmy had done to her, this was as good a reaction as any. The Doctor tried not to think about what Jimmy Stone probably would have done to Rose if he hadn't been there.

Carefully ignoring Jimmy, the Doctor began to program the coordinates. At last satisfied with it, the Doctor flipped the dematerialisation switch. The ride was rougher this time, with Rose nearly getting thrown from the armchair. They gathered by the door. “All right.” The Doctor said quietly. “This is going to be unpleasant, and is highly unlikely to be resolved peacefully. So stay away from the fight, should one break out. Are we in agreement?”

They both nodded, Rose reluctantly, Jimmy fervently. The Doctor smiled, pressing a kiss to Rose's forehead. He lingered a moment longer than he probably should have, knowing that this could be the last time he was close to her. Then he whispered one short sentence in her ear. Rose smiled softly at him, but there were unshed tears in her eyes.

Turning, the Doctor threw open the TARDIS doors. He strode out, and was greeted by the sight of the Master in full Gallifreyan ceremonial robes. Drama queen, the Doctor thought uncharitably. Out loud, he said with some irritation, “What do you want? Or have you brought us here to gloat? Again.”

The Master grinned horribly, slitted pupils contracting in poison-green eyes. “Of course I brought you here to gloat, my dear Doctor! But more than that, it's time for the end of the world.”

He brought out a green detonator, and clicked it once. “One hour until earth goes buh-bye.”

The Master shook his head chidingly. “Really, you were all so pathetically dumb. Doctor, you would almost think that you were human, for all your lapses in judgment. Rose, it would be your last mistake to trust the Doctor, but I'm feeling merciful today. And Jimmy Stone. Oh Jimmy.”

He clucked his tongue in mock regret. “Where do I begin? Ah yes, trusting me. Did you really think that the Doctor was evil? The only thing he's done wrong in his long life is oppose me. And now you and your stinking, human-infested planet are going to pay the price of your greed and naïveté.”

The Master shook his head, and froze, zeroing in on the Doctor's infinitesimal movements. Realising the jig was up, the Doctor drew back his arm, and threw as hard as he could. The activated stasis field whizzed through the air, and impacted the Time bomb with a gelatinous whump. Instantly, a skin of translucent, golden radiance encased the bomb.

The Master let out a scream of rage. The Doctor smiled. They both knew that there was no way to disrupt a stasis field. The Master launched himself at the Doctor, and the Doctor met him halfway. They collided in a flurry of kicks and punches. Most didn't connect, but a few did, and they broke apart to circle. It was a fairly even contest.

The Master had grossly exaggerated speed and strength, but the Doctor was running high on potent regeneration energy. Any injuries the Doctor received healed almost instantly.

The Doctor darted in to grapple with the Master. It was almost too easy to wrestle the Master to the ground, and pin him. The Doctor watched the Master warily, watching for a trick. “Rose, please go get the duct tape.” A sharp pain, and everything went black.

* * *

 

After Rose had hit the Doctor over the head, and looked at him with those awfully empty eyes, Jimmy ran back inside the mad ship, already mentally regressing into the scared six-year-old kid who had watched his mother get beat up by his father. Curling up in a ball, Jimmy wept and let himself feel helpless.

It wasn't fair. The Doctor with his sentient ship… he was supposed to be the kind of hero that Jimmy had read about as a child. He was supposed to jump in and save everyone. But he was unconscious or worse. He wouldn't be helping anyone.

Jimmy Stone wasn't what you'd call a good Christian, but this time he prayed. He prayed with all of his dwindling faith to a god, any god who might be listening. It was better than the alternative.

* * *

 

Slowly, the Doctor became aware, and wished he wasn't. His head was healed, but when he opened his eyes, he was treated to a sight that made his hearts go cold, and his blood run hot with helpless rage. Rose was snuggled up to the Master, her eyes glazed over with obvious signs of mind control. The Master’s arm was wrapped around her waist. Voice hoarse, the Doctor asked, “How did you manage that? The telepathic damper is still around her neck.”

The Master smiled, showing an array of too-perfect teeth. Wolf, my what large teeth you have. All the better to eat you with, the Doctor thought. “I sabotaged the parts to the telepathic damper. Or did you not notice that someone was inside your TARDIS?”

The Doctor's lip curled as he furtively tested the bonds on his wrists and ankles. “Of course I noticed. I simply assumed that you were after the £3,000,000 in gold dust you took. Even in the Academy, you always did like life's luxuries.” The Doctor said with no little venom. He yanked harder on the ropes.

The Master's eyes lit with anger. The Master turned and roughly kissed Rose. The maelstrom of emotion churning inside Rose made the Doctor feel simultaneously sick and like he wanted to rip the Master to pieces. The Doctor frantically ripped at the bonds. “Stop it! Just leave her be!” The Doctor shouted.

The Master stepped away from Rose, and stalked toward the Doctor. He ran a finger over the Doctor's cravat, slowly, lovingly. “And what will you do for me in return? Would you give up the rest of your regenerations for a human girl? If you do, I'll let both you and your precious earth survive. You'll be my prisoner, of course. Maybe I'll even let you play with Rose from time to time.”

The Doctor stopped struggling, and glared at him, stony faced. “No.” Come on, he silently pleaded with the universe. Give me something. Anything.

The Master brushed a stray lock of hair out of his face. “Wrong answer.”

Then the Master crumpled to the floor, whimpering. Behind him stood Rose, eyes mercifully clear and ticked off. She shook her head, clucking her tongue. “Some people never learn.”

She dropped the lug wrench, and started untying the Doctor. He'd never been so glad to see anyone. Rose untied his wrists, and was almost done with his ankles when the Master stood up with a growl of rage. Rose barely managed to untie the last knot, when the Master ripped her away from the Doctor, and threw her with careless force. She hurtled through the air, to land against the base of the TARDIS some ten feet away. Something crunched audibly, and Rose lay still, face down like a rag doll.

The Doctor didn't know if she was alive or dead. And right now, he couldn't stop to check. Couldn't stop to grieve. He launched himself at the Master. They collided, and went down in a tangle of limbs. Trading blows, they struggled to their feet.

Only for the Doctor to slip on something cold and metallic, and go down. Half stunned, struggling to rise, the Doctor could only watch helplessly as the Master aimed a TCE at him. “Even you won't regenerate from this, Doctor.”

Until a blessedly familiar female voice said, “Not today, buster.” Right as she kicked him in certain sensitive areas.

The Master eventually managed to raise his head far enough to make eye contact with Rose. “Stop.”

Rose froze in her tracks, then let out an inarticulate scream. She picked up the lug wrench, and brought it down on the Master’s head. It impacted with a resounding thwack, and the Master crumpled face first onto the concrete. Rose dropped the lug wrench, and walked shakily over to the Doctor. She offered him a hand up, then squeaked in pain as the Doctor took her hand and stood. Feeling a thrill of alarm, the Doctor looked Rose up and down. “What hurts?”

Rose winced, and the Doctor noticed she was breathing like every breath hurt. “Let me guess. Broken ribs?”

Rose nodded, and huffed a laugh. “Sure feels like it.”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes, as broken ribs weren't exactly common fare in young human females, unless they were in abusive relationships. But he let it slide. “After we deal with Jimmy and the Master, we'll fix your ribs.”

Rose smiled. “Sounds lovely.”

* * *

 

Jimmy looked up as the Doctor and Rose entered the console room, Rose carrying the bomb, and the Doctor a duct tape-cocooned Master. Rose still had to laugh at the Doctor's approach to prisoner transport, but mostly she just felt wrung out. Rose hated what the Master had done to her.

Jimmy stood up and stared at Rose as she set the bomb down next to a bank of clocks. “Rose, are you okay? Did he do something to you?”

The nerve he had! Abruptly angry, Rose snapped, “What do you care, you filthy hypocrite?” Jimmy stared at her, dumbstruck.

Rose turned to the Doctor, who was watching her with an unreadable expression. “Let's take him home.”

* * *

 

The Doctor watched as Jimmy Stone slouched towards the door, and paused, staring entreatingly at Rose. “Won't you come with me?”

Rose's answer was short, curt and to the point. “No.”

Jimmy took two steps toward Rose with a angry expression on his face, looked at the Doctor, gulped, and left in a hurry.

The Doctor held out his hand, and Rose took it. “To the medbay, and then to Gallifrey.”

Rose nudged the duct taped Master with her foot, eliciting a muffled oomph. “I look forward to getting rid of this git. Put on trial, you said?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be sure to leave feedback. :)


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